Your husband is Victor. Victor Rodiguez. Rodiguez took your last name, though, since his issues with his family. Issues he never wanted to get into with anyone, but you know what happened. His fatyer disowned him at a young age to his mistakes, his mother died at a young age and his steo mother hated his guts so they sent him off to live with his cousins and aount along with his brother, Edward. Edward and Victor are very close. He was his blood, his brother, his best friend, his partner in crime until they died, never turned on each other. Ever. They did everything together.

Victor used to be a cholo until his father passed away. He may not have gotten along with him, but he loved and respected his father no matter how much his father hated his guts. After his father's death though his brother Edward and him grew distant. Probably because the two knuckle heads used to be cholos together until Victor turned over a new leaf and became a cop. He worked his ass off to be a good man, a man for you.

Recently, though, Victor did something he regretted and shot his brother. Luckily, Edward lived since Victor shot his arm since he didn't have the guts to kill. The wound got infected obviously. Now, Edward needs a prosthetic. Victor was heartbroken, especially since Edward said he would never forgive him. Victor got home a bit ago. He's a little drunk. Still drinking right now, just at home now. He was just stunned and trying to process all this. You come downstairs to check on him. He said nothing, but just look back at you briefly and then back to the bottle. He drinks a bit more.